


Result of the Battle

by BoredWithIdeas



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Exchangelock AU Exchange 2014, M/M, Teenlock, and for that I'm sorry, john is older, these-crazy-obsessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-11 09:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2063784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredWithIdeas/pseuds/BoredWithIdeas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The date is August 1, 1941 and it's the height of the war against Germany. Sherlock is just a boy when it all starts and John just became a man. So when they meet at a pub, they become best friends. Little did they know that along with the war, there has to love but to balance everything, there must also be death...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Result of the Battle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [These_Crazy_Obsessions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/These_Crazy_Obsessions/gifts).



> This is a very late exchangelock gift for these-crazy-obsessions on Tumblr, so I hope you find it and enjoy.

They first locked eyes at a pub. Clear blues eyes meeting deep blue ones. Something within the two men sparked. The deep blue eyes looked away, as if ashamed having looked. Clear blue eyes got the courage to walk over and stand next to deep blue.

The man standing tapped the other man’s shoulder. “Excuse me, Sir? I couldn't help but notice the way you looked at me back there. I know I have no right in asking but are you, in any way, associates with my brother?”

“No, sorry. I don’t know your brother, or in fact who you are. I just happen to look in that direction and we simply held gazes,” the man with the deep blue eyes answered. “I’m John Watson.” He stuck his hand out for the other man to shake.

“It’s quite alright. It is  _I_ who should be apologizing to you,” Clear blue eyes responded. He shook John’s hand. “I’m Sherlock Holmes.”

Their hands stayed connected for a while before John flushed a deep red and pulled his hand away. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Sherlock gave a small chuckle. “It is alright. I am in no way harmed by the hand shake,” Sherlock replied. “If you don’t mind me prying, though, may I ask what age are you?”

John took a drink from his beer before answering. “I’m nineteen. Just turned last month, in fact. If you don’t mind me asking, what age are you?”

“I’m seventeen, Sir,” Sherlock replied, shyly with a smile.

“Isn't that a bit young to be in here?”

“Of course, it is. I’m only waiting here for my father. He’s attending to some business in the back.”

“Ah, I see,” John said with a nod. In the background, the old radio on the counter was playing Will Oakland; Just Before the Battle, Mother. One of John’s favorite songs; it had came out a while ago and it was so true to what was happening at the moment. There was a war going on in Germany, and England was a part of it.

“Another question, Mr. Watson,” Sherlock said.

“John, please. Just call me John; I’m not much older than you.”

“Oh, alright then. John, I was wondering, you are going to enlist in the war?”

“Why would you think that?” John asked, turning his full attention to Sherlock.

Sherlock looked down, bashfully. “I didn't want to assume anything but you are in a pub that is mostly full of men enlisted into the war.”

“Right, of course,” John replied with a chuckle. “I’m not quite sure. My mother had told me to enlist but I moved out before she could say anything more on the matter.”

“And what does your father think of the matter?”

John shook his head. “My father died in the war of ’36. He was one of the first men to enlist. He died a year going in.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. If I had known…”

“No, but how could you?”

“I suppose the way you flinched when I mentioned my father, or the way you strongly opposed to the way I called you Mr. Watson could have given me the indication that your father was… well,” Sherlock’s sentence trailed off.

“Wow. Smart lad,” John said with a hint of admiration in his voice.

“Thank you,” Sherlock said with a smile. John and Sherlock spent the entirety of the night talking about all sorts of topics; How the war is going to end, Pros and cons about John going into the war, and what Sherlock’s dad does.

“He sells… stuff. I don’t quite remember what but it must be completely irrelevant for me not to remember.” John laughed at that. It was nearing closing time at the pub and there were not a lot of men left. Sherlock’s dad appeared from the back and walked over to where Sherlock and John were.

“Hello, Sir? And who might you be?” Mr. Holmes asked John.

John finished off his second beer and stuck his hand out. “Apologies! I’m John Watson.”

Mr. Holmes merely looked at John’s hand and raised an eyebrow. “That still didn't answer my question.”

John was about to stutter out a response when Sherlock came to the rescue. “Father, John is a new friend that I've met.”

“Ah, I see. And how old are you, John?”

“I’m nineteen, Sir,” John replied.

“I see, and you have, yet, to enlist in the war. Why is that?” Mr. Holmes replied.

“I am thinking about becoming a Doctor, but, at the moment, I don’t have much income and my job hasn't been doing well.”

“Well,” Mr. Holmes started and raised his eyebrow again. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Watson. Come along, Sherlock,” he said as he started walking towards the door.

“No,” Sherlock answered.

“What?” Mr. Holmes turned around to face his son.

“I think I would like to stay with John. At least, for a little while,” Sherlock replied.

“Your mother will be very cross,” the father threatened.

“Then so be it,” Sherlock answered.

Sherlock’s father was about to reply but thought against it. He simply nodded in the direction of Sherlock, and then, to John. He was gone within a blink of an eye.

Sherlock sat down at the counter. “I noticed you didn’t question when my father mentioned enlistment of the war.”

John was still a bit dazed from the counter with the father, but then, came to himself. “Oh, um, no. I just assumed that your father was like you. Not that there is anything wrong with yourself! It’s just… I’m going to stop talking,” John blushed and looked down.

Sherlock laughed. “You are quite the fellow!” Just then Frank Sinatra’s “Change Partners” came on. Immediately, Sherlock started swaying slightly to the music.

“Fan of Frank Sinatra, are we?” John teased when noticing the slight movement coming from the younger boy.

It was Sherlock’s turn to blush. “It’s a guilty pleasure, I suppose,” he replied.

As if in response to Sherlock’s comment, John stood and held a hand out. “Care to show me your moves, then, Holmes?”

Sherlock flushed a deeper shade of red. He turned to see that the barkeeper had gone to the bathroom. He smiled faintly and nodded. He stood, took hold of John’s hand and let John guide him towards the center of an open space in the pub. Immediately, they fell into a Waltz position with John taking the lead. Sherlock made an intake of breath when he felt John’s hand rest at his waist and exhaled when their hands interlaced. Then, he rested his hand on John’s broad shoulder, squeezing lightly and feeling the muscle underneath John’s waistcoat.

John’s heartbeat increased immensely at the feeling of Sherlock this close. Then, they began dancing. A simple _1, 2, 3_ with a twist that Sherlock brought into it.

 At first, their eyes were roaming, just looking closely at the man before them. Sherlock was wearing a nice pair of gray trousers with a white shirt tucked in. He hadn’t bothered with a jacket and, instead, wore a matching gray sweater vest. John, on the other hand, wore a wine colored waistcoat and a vaguely striped white shirt. He, also, wore black trousers.

Once they were confident enough, their eyes met. Shots of euphoria moved through them as they danced. They could get caught and they’d get in trouble, massive trouble. But none of the mattered because they looked at each other as if the other hung the moon in the sky.

Sherlock knew when the song was about to finish, so he decided to be bold. He leaned in close and dipped John. It caught the older boy by surprise but they kept eye contact. The song had finally finished and they stayed like that, moving closer.

A door closing in the distance brought them out of their trance. Sherlock brought John upright and they distanced themselves. The blond moved back to his seat by the bar, blushing exceedingly. The barkeeper came back to wipe down the counter. Sherlock composed himself and walked over to John.

“I think it’d be best if I went home. I would enjoy it if we could meet up again, John,” Sherlock said.

John cleared his throat and nodded. “Of course. That’d be great. How about we meet up at the park for a lunch? Say Friday?”

The younger boy smiled. “Great. See you then, John.” Sherlock bid John and the barkeeper goodnight and left.

“Another pint, lad? Seems as though you could use one,” the barkeeper asked John.

John shook his head. “No, thank you. I think I’ll be heading off. Got to get up early tomorrow,” he replied while pulling out his wallet to pay for the drinks.

“Cheers,” the barkeeper replied when John handed him the payment.

John bid him goodnight and headed off to his apartment. It was quite the night he had. He doubted, highly, that he’d get any sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said chapter fic but I couldn't find inspiration to finish writing it. So I'm leaving it as a one-shot. I'm sorry but.... It was going to be a fail anyway.


End file.
